


Freaky Friday

by LadyLoec



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst and Porn, BAMF Bonnie Bennett, Blood Drinking, Bloodlust, Declarations Of Love, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Magical Accidents, Mentioned Elena Gilbert, Power Swap, Vampire Bonnie Bennett, Witch!Damon, vampire!bonnie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28556202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLoec/pseuds/LadyLoec
Summary: A spell goes awry, and Bonnie finds herself trying on Damon's fangs for size while Damon tries desperately not to set everything on fire with borrowed power. Their friendship is tested and forged into something new: Something that will change their lives in ways they had never thought possible.
Relationships: Bonnie Bennett/Damon Salvatore
Comments: 17
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Second of three fics from my "never thought I'd get around to finishing them" pile. It will likely be a little while before the next one, as it's nowhere near as close to finished as the previous 2 were when I unearthed them. Hope you enjoy!

_A Treatise on Threnodic Spellcraft_ may have sounded like the most boring book ever written, but given the prevalence of vampires in Bonnie's day to day life, she figured enhancing her arsenal against dead things probably wasn't the worst idea. Especially seeing as Damon had been particularly... _Something_ lately, and that usually spelled trouble.

Since the moment she'd gotten back from the prison world and run into his arms, things had been odd between them, which she guessed was understandable. After all, they'd gone from arch enemies to BFFs, and the rapid change was giving their friends whiplash. Their friendship had been platonically tactile, even borderline flirtatious when they were alone; in reality if it wasn't for the fact he had a girl waiting for him at home, she'd wondered if maybe...  
_No_ , that was a dangerous line of thought.  
Now he flinched when she got too close: He still flirted, but he hadn't even touched her since that initial hug on her return. She understood the need to tone things down, but now his icy demeanour was practically giving her frostbite. If he were still with Elena, she might understand, as she could see how spending 3 months with another woman might put a strain on a relationship, but Elena's memory wipe had put paid to that. And weirdly, the end of their previously epic love story didn't even seem to bother Damon half as much as it should... So, why the cold shoulder? She would give anything to understand what was going through his mind right now.

She sighed as she tried to focus on the boring wall of text in front of her.  
_Someone needs to teach this guy about punctuation,_ she mused as she read yet another run-on sentence.  
"You know, you might not look so grumpy if you read something with more pictures."  
Bonnie half-jumped out of her skin - she hadn't heard Damon approach. He wouldn't have been surprised to find her in the boarding house library - since she'd gotten back, she had been spending a lot of time there. It somehow felt more safe and familiar than her own home. She’d even claimed her ‘old’ bedroom from the prison world, and slept in it more often than she probably should.  
"Not all of us read from the K+ section, Damon."  
"Whatever. If you get bored, there's a shelf with erotic lithographs by the fireplace that'll make you blush like a fire hydrant." _Again with the flirting - so long as there was 6 feet between them at all times..._ "I'm getting a snack - want something?"  
"Not if it has to share a microwave with B-positive." She quipped.  
"Suit yourself." He sauntered off, and she made a concerted effort not to look at his backside as he walked past.

Bonnie returned to the sentence she had tried to finish 6 times already, before giving up and skimming down...  
_Blah, blah... Lapis lazuli... Sun and moon curse? Might want to check your sources, buddy... Blah... Wait, what?_  
She zeroed in on the section that had caught her attention – it talked about creating a temporary subconscious link between a witch and a vampire. There was even a spell. She looked toward the kitchen where the vampire who had her vexed had just headed – The past few weeks, she had wanted nothing more than to get inside his head, and this spell purported to give her exactly that. But it would be a breathtaking invasion of privacy. She couldn’t… Could she?  
Although if the book was right, he’d never know…  
Bonnie quickly gathered the simple spell components – something of hers, something of Damon’s, some candles, and a sage stick. Before she could think better of it, she lit the candles and began to chant.  
_Mortem venefica,_ _per oculos meos videre_  
_Mortem venefica,_ _per oculos meos videre..._  
On the third repetition, she pricked her finger and squeezed a drop of her blood into the flame.

There was a moment of deafening silence and a whisper of breeze that made the flame flicker briefly before going out. A horrible sensation like creeping death ran through her, and she had just enough time to wonder if she’d made a horrible mistake before she was overcome with a wave of… _everything._ Cacophonous noise that made her ears feel like they’d bleed, everything in her field of vision came into unbearably sharp focus, a musty smell of saccharine sweetness, rot and flames - an assault on all of her senses that was almost overwhelming. There was a sound of smashing glass from the kitchen, and worrying her spell had hurt Damon somehow, she ran to the kitchen.

Damon was hunched over the sink, retching – his tumbler of blood smashed and splattered all over the floor.  
“There’s something wrong with it.” He choked out. “The blood - it tastes…”  
Bonnie didn’t hear anything else. Didn’t see anything else. Every fibre of her being was focussed wholeheartedly on the smell of the blood pooling on the tiles…  
It smelled good _. Really_ good.  
But suddenly she got a waft of something better. Damon was stood in front of the sink where the window was open, and the scent rolling off of him was... God, there weren’t _words_.  
Stefan had obviously heard the commotion, as he vamp-sped into the room just quick enough to catch her as she lunged forward, exclaiming his surprise at the black veins crawling up her face as fangs descended from her gums. The last thing she remembered before she felt her neck snap was the look of shock in Damon’s eyes as the curtains exploded into flames.


	2. Chapter 2

When Bonnie came to, she felt like she’d been hit by a truck after a heavy night of drinking. Her throat was parched, and she was dizzy and nauseous.   
“Good, you’re awake.” Damon’s voice sounded weird, and _loud_ (even though he didn’t appear to be shouting) _._ “Mind telling me what the fuck is going on?”   
Bonnie opened her eyes and immediately regretted the decision. Since when was the basement so damn bright?   
”What are you talking about?” She croaked out – she’d never been so _thirsty_.   
He laughed incredulously. “I’m _talking about_ how suddenly I’m not a vampire anymore. But I’ll give you three guesses who is.” He threw something at her - something plastic and squishy and horribly familiar – she’d microwaved enough of them for Damon in 1994. “Thirsty?”   
Bonnie felt a tingling sensation on her face and a burning sensation in her gums, and before she knew what she was doing, she was tearing into the blood bag with her teeth. The cold, congealing blood was somehow better and worse than anything she’d ever tasted, and she didn’t so much as pause for breath until it was empty. Only then did she realise what she had done.

Reaching a trembling hand up, she felt veins bubbling up from her cheeks under her eyes, and when she slid her thumb into her mouth, she barely touched the foreign protuberance before she cut herself. Pulling her thumb out to look at it, the cut sealed up before her eyes.   
“Oh my god. What have I done? What have I _done?”_

  
“That’s my line. What the hell _did_ you do?” Damon sounded _pissed._ “I saw the little setup you had going in the library with the candles. I’m guessing that wasn’t a coincidence.”  
“It wasn’t supposed to… I didn’t mean to do _this_!” She was half-hysterical. She was a vampire – she was _dead!_ And it was all her fault.  
“I figured out that much on my own. You’ve been out almost an hour, so I went through that book of yours. A mind-link? What the fuck, Bonnie?”  
Her eyes caught on the empty blood bag; she wanted more. Looking at Damon, her eyes zoomed in on his neck – the thick, juicy vein there. She licked her lips. He had asked her a question and it took all of her focus to remember to answer it.  
“You’ve been acting so weird lately, I just-“  
"So you pull a Freaky Friday on me instead of just _asking_ me about it? That's fucked up! Well fix it, Lindsay Lohan, I don’t want your witchy juju powers.” He laughed incredulously. “I need to go get some air before I set something else on fire. I’ll be back with more bloodbags soon. We need to get you on the wagon pronto so you can undo whatever the hell it is you did.”

The cell door creaked and slammed. He had every right to be angry, but it still stung. She sat in the dank cell, weeping silently, and tried to work out how to make things right,


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for a graphic description of bloodlust

When Damon calmed down, he’d made good on his promise and returned with an armful of blood bags for her, as well as a stack of grimoires. He’d sat there in silence going through them, looking for something that could help. He didn’t say much – for the first day, he was too angry to even look at her – except to check how she was doing. He seemed to know when she was really struggling, and what to do to make things easier. She still struggled with his proximity; he smelled too good, and the blood bags were so unsatisfying – like eating popcorn for dinner, it filled her up but didn’t satiate her, didn’t give her what she needed – but it was getting more tolerable.

2 days later, her senses were driving her crazy - she could hear every tiny creature skittering and scratching in the woods, every creak of the trees, even the cars on the road a mile and a half away. Her clothes felt itchy and burned her skin. And she could just NOT. STOP. CRYING. It was a tidal wave of crushing despair like she'd never felt before ripping through every fibre of her being and devastating everything in this wake. And even if she could break through the surface of it, she would only have to contend with that gnawing thirst that felt like her veins rubbing together under her skin: It never relented, never felt sated - she’d drank half the freezer, but it didn’t even scratch the surface of her hunger. It was like trying to focus in a crowded, thumping nightclub where they never turned the strobes off.

Damon immediately picked up that her distress had worsened, and rushed over to comfort her, but she just crumpled in his arms.   
"Is this what it's like for you all the time? How do you ever do anything? How do you _sleep_?"   
"It’s okay Bon, you just need to focus on something. Anything. Close your eyes and try to pick out my heartbeat - can you do that for me?   
She didn't think she could - the cacophonous drone of everything meant she barely even heard his words. But she did as she was told and closed her eyes, seeking out that pulsing thrum. She was alarmed to find that it wasn't as hard as she'd anticipated - perhaps for the predator in her, tracking a heartbeat was natural - and she found it within a few seconds.   
Damon was obviously watching the changes on her face.   
"Okay good, now zone in on it. Block out everything else and just listen to how steady it is. The rhythm." She gave a short nod, eyes still closed, and did as he said, letting out a sigh of relief as the overwhelming din of the world seemed to ease against that comforting _thump, thump, thump_. Instinctually, she leaned into it, nestling her face in the crook of his neck against his skin, where she could even feel the pulse of it against her cheek. She let out a quiet _hmm_ of contentment: His skin against hers was so warm and comforting, and that deep thrum of his pulse flowed over her like water. "Bon..."

She barely heard him, too focused on her new found calm. Suddenly her nostrils flared as a new, intoxicating scent bloomed in them: It was indescribable - honey, cinnamon, smoke, McDonald's fries, sex, and strawberries all at once, and yet none of those things. Her hand slid around the other side of his neck, pressing him hard against her as she inhaled deeply.   
"Oh my god, that smells amazing. What _is_ that?"   
"Pretty sure that would be fear." His voice had a slight tremor; her eyes snapped open and distantly she felt the veins under her eyes crackling, realising what was happening just as her fangs slid through her gums.

"Bonnie I need you to listen to me very carefully, okay? You need to pull back." The pull was stronger than gravity. He was delusional if he thought she could fight it - she'd never felt need like this, ever. The hand at his throat squeezed, and there was a sharp gasp of pain from Damon as the blood bloomed under the surface in a gorgeous purple bruise - another waft of that addictive scent, this time mingled with that spicy hum of his blood. Bonnie licked her lips. "You don't want to hurt me. I know you don't. Please Bonnie, fight it."   
Oh but he was wrong: She _did_ want to hurt him. Wanted to feel his blood run thick and hot over her fingers as she tore into his jugular until he stopped struggling and went limp in her arms. The thought was so tempting, so enticing...   
So wrong.

Something clicked in her mind then and with no small amount of effort, she threw him aside and herself back against the wall on the opposite side of the room. She was panting hard as she fought down the bloodlust scraping and clawing at her insides, but as it started to abate, the overwhelming guilt that replaced it was so, so much worse as she realised what she had thought about doing, what she had nearly done… As Damon got to his feet, hand going to his shoulder and neck with a wince, she saw the fresh bruises blooming on his throat take the shape of her fingers, and felt sick.   
"I... I can't believe I almost... Oh my God."   
The bile rising in her throat seemed to manifest in hot tears running down her cheeks.   
"It's okay. I'm fine." His voice was artificially steady as he tried to calm her. "You did so, so well."   
She laughed incredulously, shaking her head.  
"'Well?' You don't know what I was imagining. What I wanted to..."   
Her panties were damp. She'd been _aroused_ by it. _Oh God…_   
"I know exactly what was going through your head. Because it’s gone through mine a million times. I know what it feels like to have the kind of thoughts that make you doubt you have a shred of humanity left in you. But you fought it, and you won - As practically a _newborn_. I should’ve been a goner - I've never seen that kind of restraint. You were amazing. I'm so proud of you."

She couldn't hear anymore - couldn't listen to him praise her for not murdering him. She didn't even realise she was vamp-speeding until she came to an abrupt halt in her claimed room, and let herself break.


	4. Chapter 4

Damon knocked on her door the next morning, though she knew he was coming before he’d even climbed the stairs from the smell of the mug of blood he carried.   
“I don’t know if you’re brave or just stupid.”   
”Six of one, half-dozen of the other.” The sight of the bruise on his neck made her want to start crying all over again. “How’re you holding up?”   
”Pretty terribly.” She managed to take the mug from him without ripping his arms off at least, forcing herself to sip slowly. “You?”   
“Human healing sucks, and I have to sleep with a fire extinguisher by my bed.” She gave a humourless sympathetic laugh. "Look, I’ve been thinking, and maybe we should help one another get a grip on our powers. We don't know how long this will last, but if the answer is anything to do with witchy-woo magic, I might end up being the one who has to fumble their way through the spell. And I'm guessing you might want to leave the house at some point without eating the milkman.”

Bonnie took in a steadying breath. The kind of control and power to cast a spell like the one she’d done to cause this took months, if not years. The thought of even a week longer stuck like this was almost too much to bear.   
“Does it get easier?” The question was half-whispered.   
“I’m not gonna sugar-coat it for you, it’s never _easy._ There’ll be times when you’ll feel like giving up and switching it off, and times when your own thoughts terrify you...” Bonnie shuddered. “But it’s not all bad. You’ve never seen the stars until you’ve seen them with a vampire’s eyes. Never felt anything like the air on your skin after a storm when you can feel the static. And it does get better.”   
She nodded. She knew Damon loved being a vampire – there had to be a good reason for that, right?

His hand had slid close to hers on the mattress. Tentatively, she reached out to put her own hand over his. When he jerked back like he'd been burned, it was impossible not to feel that sharp bite of rejection - in the prison world he would hold her, lay with his head on her lap, stroke her face with such tenderness. Now he couldn't even bear her touch.   
"What was that? It felt..."   
_Oh_. Suddenly Bonnie knew exactly why he had the response he did.   
"Kind of a bad tingle? Just a sense of wrongness?"   
Damon's eyes met hers as if equally weirded out by her apparent mind reading.   
"Yeah."   
"Vampire." She said matter-of-factly. "Witches can sense auras. When they touch someone, they feel their life force. Vampires are dead, ergo no life force. It's like an early warning system."   
The look on his face would have been unreadable were it not for her new found supersenses, but she could see he was trying to mask something: It looked like pain.   
"Is… Is that what it feels like when I touch you? _Every time_ I touch you?"   
There was a self-consciousness to the question that made her heart lurch. She knew he was afraid of the answer - could practically see his mind racing through the thousands of tiny touches that had passed between them, and questioning them all. Bonnie couldn't bear the thought of all those memories being tainted, so she answered candidly - Perhaps too candidly.   
"I feel a lot of things when you touch me." It came out as a whisper – she wasn’t even sure if he’d heard it. Embarrassed by her forthrightness, she quickly moved the conversation on. “You’re right. We should practice. I’m gonna shower and get changed, then we can get started. Sound good?”   
He just nodded, his expression blank. Whether he was thinking about that harrowing sensation when they’d touched or what she’d said after, she wasn’t sure. Either way, she knew they both had a rough time ahead, and between battling bloodlust and harnessing the occult, this was the least of their problems.


	5. Chapter 5

Once they were both in a better headspace (and Bonnie had drunk another 2 blood bags – feeling full, if not sated), they sat down to their first task: Floating feathers. Unfortunately, that involved meditating – something Damon was inherently terrible at. 25 minutes in, and he was almost as on edge as she was.   
"You used to float a pencil. Why can't _I_ float a pencil?"   
"Because you might slip up and stake me with it. Now shut up and find your centre."   
"You know, you’re so zen, you should do a guided mediation podcast." No supersenses needed to feel the sarcasm dripping from that sentence.   
“Damon this is serious. If you can’t get this down, we may as well stop wasting our time now.”   
He rolled his eyes before closing them again, at least appearing to make an effort to slow his breathing.

Eventually, after far, far too long, he got to the right level of calm where they could move on to how to tap into his power (though on his insistence, she kept the fire extinguisher on hand). He got frustrated with himself frequently, which slowed their progress, but eventually…   
“Damon… Look.”   
She watched as his eyelids fluttered open and those blue depths lit up as he took in the feather levitating evenly in the air in front of him. He let out a small breath of wonder, marvelling as the feather danced in the barest movement of air.   
“Wow. I did that. I _did_ do that, right?”   
“Incredible what you can do when you let your mind quiet, huh?”   
He floated it down with a dexterity that was amazing considering it was his first time.   
“As you can probably empathise right now, that isn’t usually easy for me.”

She really could empathise. She sighed wistfully.   
"I know what you mean. I wish I could meditate or something, just for some quiet, but these damn super senses have me feeling constantly on edge. It's like supernatural ADD."   
"It isn't all bad." She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Let me show you something. Close your eyes."   
"How can you show me if my eyes are closed?"   
"Stop being a smartass. Close 'em."   
Reluctantly, she did. She heard movement.   
"What're you-" She was cut off by a delectable soft sensation on the inside of her wrist that made her gasp a little. It was like the concentrated feeling of rolling in thousand thread count Egyptian cotton sheets.   
_What could-?_   
The feather.   
He was running the downy tip of the feather over her skin - dancing it lightly over her wrist in a way that would have just been ticklish to a human, but with her new, enhanced senses, it felt divine. She felt it slide lower, her hand instinctively falling open like a flower at the touch. He traced the lines on her palm like he was reading her fortune, and when it flicked down and over the pad of her index finger, she let out another little gasp.

Bonnie felt the air shift as he moved a little closer, and had to fight to keep her eyes closed. She was just about to sneak a look when she felt the feather touch lightly to her eyelid, and smiled as she realised it was his way of saying ‘ _No peeking_ ’. He brushed the feather across her temple, trailing slowly down her cheek - the tiny movements of air it created would have been imperceptible on human skin, but she felt every little breath of it. She marvelled at how it felt so different against the tender, soft skin of her cheek, and she imagined how it would feel against her collarbone, her stomach... And blushed as she imagined it caressing her breasts, teasing her nipples... She let out a soft _'hmm'_ as it danced along her cheekbone, suddenly glad Damon no longer had the senses to scent the beginnings of her arousal. The feather continued its journey, eventually landing at her lips, the soft caress feeling gentle and chaste. Her bottom lip was slightly damp, and the way it caught and dragged a little against that hint of moisture felt exactly like a kiss. Her blood heated under her skin as she imagined how it would feel to be kissed with these senses - to be specific, how it would feel to have Damon kiss her.

She leaned into it a little as the last brush of the feather floated away, and she took a second to compose herself a little before opening her eyes. It had been one of the most sensual experiences of her life, and he hadn't laid a finger on her. Hell, she was willing to bet that given the right circumstances (i.e. a little more nudity and a lot more courage), he could have brought her to orgasm with nothing more than that feather on her skin. When she did open her eyes, the dark look in his eyes told her he had been thinking something similar. There was also an unfamiliar scent in the air that made her mouth water - sweet, earthy, and salty, with a unique muskiness; she swallowed hard when she recognised it for what it was:   
Arousal.   
Distinctly masculine arousal.   
She tried and failed abysmally not to imagine him hard and leaking as he watched her reactions to what he had been doing to her. She knew if the tables were turned, he wouldn't have hesitated to call her on it - say something to make her cheeks turn crimson - but Bonnie wasn't brave enough.   
Despite clearing her throat, her voice still sounded a little huskier than she would've liked.   
"Shall we work on something else?"   
Mercifully, he let her steer the conversation elsewhere without a fight, though she cursed herself inwardly for her cowardice. She spent the next hour teaching him how to light a candle, desperately trying to ignore the fact she was already burning for him.


	6. Chapter 6

Days turned into almost 2 weeks, and they weren’t any closer to a solution. Damon was getting a grip on his borrowed powers – their lessons had moved on to offensive magic, and Bonnie had felt an absurd surge of pride when he’d managed to throw her clear across the room the other day. Bonnie was also finding her feet when it came to controlling her bloodlust; being around Damon was about as difficult as it got. When she first encountered another person (a controlled interaction with Matt orchestrated by Stefan), she almost wondered _‘Is that it?’_ – it was no cakewalk, but she’d been expecting so much worse. Damon’s blood just smelled so much richer and sweeter than other people. He’d mentioned to her in passing before that witch blood was a completely different ballgame, but she’d never really believed him – she thought of all the clumsy moments she’d had around him where she’d had papercuts, scrapes, and grazes, all the life-or-death situations where she’d been pouring blood, all the magic-induced nosebleeds… In hindsight, his self restraint had been _phenomenal_. Fortunately, aside from one terrifying moment where he’d cut himself shaving and she found herself gripping the countertop and hyperventilating down the hall, Damon wasn’t as much of a klutz, and she’d been fortunate enough not to have to test her own self-discipline.

Today, Caroline was teaching her to hunt animals. Stefan had convinced her to give ‘the bunny diet’ a try to sate the side of her that yearned to hunt, and it was worth it if only to get out of the boarding house for a few hours (and to avoid Damon’s suggestion that she should try live feeding from humans, which frankly terrified her).   
“I gotta say, this is one girly bonding experience I hoped never to have with you.” Caroline said sadly. “How are you coping?”   
Bonnie sighed, toying with Damon’s borrowed daylight ring on her thumb. “Okay I guess. The first few days were rough.”   
”So were mine.” Caroline said sympathetically. “But you’re eating okay?”   
“I was gorging like crazy at first, but it’s the least of my problems right now.”   
Caroline quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”   
Bonnie sighed. The real reason she’d wanted to go hunting with Caroline rather than Stefan was that she needed some real girl talk.   
“Is it normal to be constantly horny?”   
Caroline laughed. “Girl, welcome to the club.”   
Bonnie sighed with relief. “Oh thank god, I thought it was just me.”   
“It goes hand in hand with the crazy heightened emotions. But on the plus side, sex as a vampire is _off the hook_.”

Bonnie blushed a little. “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”   
“What makes you say that?”   
“I had a meltdown early on and Damon tried to comfort me.” Caroline gave her a dark look – the one that said she was thinking of tearing off Damon’s fingernails one by one. “Oh no, not like that – it was just a hug.” Safe to say Caroline wasn’t Damon’s biggest fan, so she had to tread carefully. “But I was so close to losing control. I could have killed him. And that was just a _hug._ ” She still felt sick when she thought of those purple welts in the shape of her fingers on his neck.   
“But honey, Damon has extra tasty witch blood. Whoever you choose to sleep with won’t be as hard on your willpower.” Bonnie looked at her feet, and Caroline sighed. “Please tell me that sheepishness isn’t because you’re lusting after Damon.”   
“Caroline-“   
“No! Bonnie Bennett - do not do this to me. Since when are you stupid enough to fall for his bad boy schtick?”   
“Since I spent 3 months dying for him to touch me, and now he smells like cotton candy and sex?”   
“3 months… You mean the prison world?”   
”Nothing happened there, I swear. He was faithful to Elena the whole time. And now we’re back, and she’s not in the picture, and we’re having sexy feather moments, and he _still_ hasn’t made a move.” She sighed. “That’s what got us into this whole mess. He stopped touching me, even platonically, and I just wanted to know what I’d done wrong.” Bonnie hit out at a tree in frustration, putting a good dent the length of her forearm in the trunk.

It took a while before Caroline said anything.   
“I’m gonna need a clarification of ‘sexy feather moments’.”   
They laughed in unison. It had felt good to get out some of her frustrations, and as they continued to walk, she let herself pour out her (almost) unfiltered thoughts and fears – even things from the prison world she’d never let herself say out loud She had to give Caroline credit – considering her history with Damon, she was doing an incredible job of keeping her own feelings out of it. She even suggested a bold idea on something to push their relationship from something platonic to something more, though honestly Bonnie wasn’t sure if it was something she could actually go through with. In fact, the idea honestly terrified her. But maybe it was time for a leap of faith…

So long as it didn’t kill them first.


	7. Chapter 7

When she got back to the boarding house, all hesitation flew out of Bonnie’s mind as she caught Damon heading back from the wine cellar with a bottle of champagne dripping wet and wearing nothing but a towel. Suddenly, Caroline’s plan was the best idea she’d ever heard.   
“Hey, how’d it go?”   
Words were proving incredibly challenging. She’d seen him shirtless before ( _everyone_ had seen Damon shirtless before), but with vampire senses the effect was magnified tenfold: Drips running in slow motion down every perfect rivulet of his toned body, skin pink and perfused with warmth and yet starting to goosepimple and nipples hardening from being exposed to the chill air, and towel riding so low on his hips it was practically pornographic. Bonnie’s response was automatic.   
“I want to learn how to feed from the vein.”  
Damon quirked an eyebrow. “That bad, huh?”   
"When we fix things, I'm going vegetarian." She lamented. It hadn't actually been that bad - unlike the initially squeamish Caroline, Bonnie had never been under any illusions about where her food came from as a human, so she wasn't about to tear up over killing a deer. But Damon didn't have to know that.   
"Okay, we can start tomorrow."   
A droplet of water cascaded down his hip and disappeared under his towel.   
"Why not tonight?"   
"Because you just ate, and you aren't gonna learn self-control if you're not hungry." He had a point. "We should also go somewhere other than the grill. Too many people in this podunk town are on vervain. If you lose it, I think I can handle throwing you off someone with my Jedi powers, so we shouldn't need to bring Saint Stefan the party-pooper along for the ride." It needed to look like a spontaneous decision, otherwise he'd suspect something was up, so even though she had no intention of going through with it, she nodded. "Okay well there's a tub full of bubbles screaming my name, so I'll catch you later. Don't sweat it, Bon. Tomorrow will be fun, I promise."

Watching him saunter away, she sighed wistfully and tried not to think of sinking in to that luxurious bathtub with him, straddling him and fixing herself onto his neck, blood turning the water crimson. She shook herself out of her stupor, heading to her own shower to wash off the stink of forest and frustration.

  
\--- 

Later that evening, she knocked on Damon's door.   
"Hey." She hoped her hesitancy sounded sincere.   
"Hey. Everything okay?"   
"Yeah fine, just... Can we talk?"   
"In my experience, when a woman says she wants to talk, that means 'run'." He said in an endearing effort to put a smile on your face. "But seeing as you can outrun me now, what's up?" He took a seat on the edge of his mattress and gestured for her to join him.   
"I might be freaking out a little over this feeding thing."   
He quirked an eyebrow.   
"You were all in favour earlier. What changed?"   
"Nothing. I still am. I'm not Stefan, and I'm not Caroline. Animal blood made me want to gag and the packaged stuff leaves me with cravings so intense I'm afraid I'm gonna snap and rip the arm off the pizza delivery guy or something. But... I have questions. And I can't ask someone who doesn't feed from the vein, so..."   
"So, ask away."   
"It's embarrassing."   
"Lucky for you, vampires don't blush." He chided. "C'mon, lay it on me."   
_Interesting choice of words_. If she could blush, she definite would be by now.

"When I think about feeding, it's not just hunger I feel. It's..." She couldn’t finish the sentence: Any description of it seemed inadequate. She supposed in human terms it most equated to-   
"Lust." Damon finished for her. It wasn't a question - he knew from experience.   
"Yeah." Her cheeks should be scarlet. "If I'm going to be feeding from a stranger, will I feel like that with them?"   
"Probably." He said matter-of-factly. "The feelings tend to be more intense with someone you know, but, yeah, you'll probably end up humping like bunnies, or at least wishing you were."   
"And that's fine for you: You like casual sex. But that's not me. I've never slept with someone I didn't have a meaningful connection with."   
"And how's that working out for you so far?" He asked pointedly. It was no secret that Jeremy had cheated on her with his dead ex, but it cut deep for Damon to bring it up like that. "Okay that was a low blow. But a little no-strings gratification never hurt anyone. Maybe you could do with blowing off some steam. Pun definitely intended."   
She rolled her eyes.   
"Okay, but if I do this, I don't want it to be a stranger. I want it to be someone I trust. And I don't want to compel anyone - I want them to be okay with it." _I want you_.   
"Finding someone who is okay with being fed on and fucked is kind of a tall order, Bon-Bon." It wasn't a rejection, not really, but it sure stung like one. His eyes flickered with something. "Hey, what about Matty-blue-eyes? He's always had a soft spot for you, and he let Elena feed from him when she was a newbie."

She closed her eyes and took in a breath - if he wasn't going to offer, she had to ask.   
"I wasn't exactly thinking of Matt..."   
She gave him a shy look, and saw his expression turn from quizzical to shocked.   
"Nuh-uh. Not a chance, Bon."   
"Why not? You let Katherine feed on you when you were human."   
"Yeah but back then I didn't taste like witch! And even if I did, Katherine was centuries old by that point - you're barely a toddler in vamp terms. It'd be the equivalent of skipping over a glass of wine in favour of mainlining Columbian black tar. Are you _insane_?"   
"Jury's out." She had just propositioned Damon for Christ's sake. "But if the hunger doesn't make me crazy then your smell is gonna do the trick, so I have to do something."   
Damon's exasperation gave way to something else. Underneath the rich, intoxicating aroma of his scent, there was a sour, bitter note that didn't belong - one she didn't recognise.   
"Even if it wasn't for the fact you'd probably kill me, whether you intend to or not... Bonnie, you _don't want this_." Bonnie went to disagree, but he pre-empted her. She could tell by the way he swallowed (and she tried, she really tried not to watch the muscles in his neck move) that this wasn't comfortable for him, either. "Sure you want my blood, and you want the way I smell right now, but you don't want _me_. And if or when this mojo runs its course, I don't want my best friend not to be able to look me in the eye because you did something you regret." Bonnie wanted to scream. To cry and rage and bleed the world dry. Because he had no idea how wrong he was - how her desire for him had been a desperate living thing clawing at her from the inside long before the interference of magic and blood. Instead, she nodded silently. "So let's give 'Snatch, Eat, Erase' a shot, okay? Tonight."

\---

They headed to the bar in silence – Damon knew a place off the interstate that was inconspicuous enough, but drew a decent crowd on a Friday night. It was so, so far from what she wanted, but the situation was getting dire, and at this point anything was preferable to choking down another blood bag. She'd never been more glad Damon's car was a convertible, as she didn't think she could stand the idea of being in an enclosed space with him while he smelled like temptation incarnate.   
"Okay so you're gonna go in alone - it'll be harder to find someone if I'm third wheeling. Single someone out - preferably someone there alone, just in case things go south. Bring them out to the alley and I'll be waiting." He mistook her hesitation for nerves, taking her hand in his, which just made everything worse (she felt his comfort and wished to God it was something else, felt his warmth and his pulse thrumming beneath his skin and wanted to feel it down her parched throat). "Listen to me: You can do this."   
Speaking still felt like too much: She thought that if she said something, she'd burst into flames. So she simply nodded and got out of the car.

It was easy to see why this was one of Damon’s favoured hunting grounds. The bar seemed to be a natural nexus for the lost and desperate: Somewhere for people looking to find solace in another body, if only for the night. Bonnie didn’t even say a word aside from to order her drink, before some guy approached her. He was older, and normally wasn’t someone she’d have given a second glance, but he had kind eyes. It felt like a punch in the gut when she realised if she screwed up, those eyes would glaze over and cloud, and she and Damon would be burying him in the woods. Bonnie was just opening her mouth to invite him outside when she heard raised voices from the alley – the music drowned it out to all but her super-sensitive ears. She couldn’t very well take the guy into a screaming match, and she needed Damon’s help with compulsion, so she excused herself and headed out to find the cause of the ruckus.

Suffice it to say, she wasn’t expecting to find a guy pointing a gun at Damon.   
“Bonnie, go back inside.” Damon didn’t take his eyes off the gun.   
“Damon? What’s going on?”   
“It doesn’t concern you. Get gone.”   
“Oh, I think it does concern her.” Gun guy spoke. “Is she with you?”   
Damon said “No” at the same time as Bonnie answered “Yes.”   
“Did he fuck you yet?” He addressed her, but left the gun trained on Damon.   
“She’s a friend. We’re not like that.” Damon was clearly trying to get the focus back on him.   
“No wedding ring, so I guess she’s not your type, huh?”

“Look, I don’t know what he did to you-“   
”He fucked my wife.”   
_Ah_. Bonnie guessed she should have seen that one coming. She was tired, hungry, and her patience was wearing thin.   
“If she was an active and presumably enthusiastic participant, why aren’t you waving the gun at her?”   
“My Claire would _never-_ ”   
“Except she did.” Bonnie cut him off   
“Bonnie, stop.” Damon pleaded.   
“No, this is bullshit. If his wife came to this hole in the ground, she wanted to screw around on him. And if it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else.” He turned the gun on her. “Oh, you’re gonna shoot me?”   
“Leave her out of this. You didn’t come here for her – you came for me.”   
Bonnie’s emotions were strung out, and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with Damon’s white knight complex. She’d had enough.   
“I came here for something, too.” She let her fangs drop and felt the now-familiar creeping black veins prickling under her eyes. That delicious sweet/salty/sex scent of fear filled her nostrils and she smirked at the wide-eyed terror on the man’s face.

The gunshot rang harshly in her ears and she felt a wetness on her stomach as the world went out of focus.


	8. Chapter 8

" _Vados_." Bonnie was distantly aware of a thud, followed by clattering and smashing sounds she assumed were their assailant being thrown across the alley by a small explosion and landing unceremoniously in a pile of pallets. His groan, tailing off into unconsciousness confirmed her suspicion.   
"I didn't t-teach you that spell." She gritted out. Her abdomen was on fire. Was it supposed to feel like that?   
"I pay attention." Damon was pulling the fabric out of the way at her stomach, and she had the delirious thought that she should be embarrassed by his close attention.  
"It hurts."  
"Of course it fucking hurts. Did you expect it to feel like a day at the spa? You got SHOT."   
"You always made it look like it didn't hurt."   
She guessed it made sense - enhanced senses weren't exactly likely to dull pain.   
Her insides felt like they were on fire, but there was an acute stabbing pain at the site of the bullet hole, and when she looked, Damon had his finger wedged into the wound. She screamed when his thumb also slid in beside it.  
"I have to get the bullet out." He explained. "Otherwise you'll heal around it, and we'll have to cut you back open later."

His expression was apologetic, and it was clear that he knew exactly how this felt. Resigned to it, she turned her eyes skyward and tried to think of anything but the searing pain in her abdomen. She bit back another scream and almost passed out from the pain, falling to her knees as she heard the _tink_ of metal on the pavement.   
"Bon? Bonnie?" His voice sounded distant, but groggily she met his eyes - had he fallen down with her?   
"Shouldn't I be healing by now?" She mumbled. She was distantly aware that he was undoing the button at his cuff and rolling up his sleeve, which she thought was kind of pointless seeing as he was already covered in her blood.   
"You should. But the animal blood wasn't enough, and you didn't feed yet tonight. So guess which baby vamp gets to taste witch blood after all."   
She pushed his arm away as he offered it.   
"No. You didn't want-"   
"Well unfortunately our options are limited right now. You aren't strong enough to compel in this state and the 'bloodsoaked and interesting' look isn't the most alluring to pick up a date." Looking down at her torn clothing, stained crimson, he had a point. She stopped resisting. "Okay, don't open your mouth all the way, use your lips to form a suction cup around the bite, and try not to kill me. Sound good?"   
She nodded weakly. He raised his wrist up to her mouth, coming to rest behind her, and she did as he was told, feeling the now-familiar crackle under her eyes as she wrapped her lips tightly around his wrist. She felt him wince a little as her unpracticed fangs sinking through his skin like a knife through butter, and she let her eyelids fall closed.

The first drop on Bonnie's tongue was liquid fire. She felt the hot liquid gush into her mouth and the most intensely pleasurable sensation flooded through her whole body, making her quake. She uttered the filthiest moan possible with a mouthful of liquid, too far gone to feel shame or embarrassment or, frankly, _anything_ other than euphoria. Sparks tingled behind her eyes and at her fingertips, and she felt the magic in him flowing into her. He tasted unbelievable - spice and sex and woodsmoke and sin filling every one of her senses until she was drowning in him. It was more than hunger, more than lust: It was all consuming need.

She was distantly aware of a gasping sound as Damon sagged against her back, and her eyes snapped open as for one horrible moment she wondered if she had somehow taken too much already. She wasn't expecting to see him breathing hard, pupils blown black with lust and body trembling with his own waves of ecstasy. The sight was almost as delicious as his blood, and when his eyes - so pleasure-drunk that those ice blue rings were barely even visible at the edge of his iris - found hers, she was lost.

Damon had warned her that feeding live was nothing like feeding from bags. He'd told her that she would get drawn in, that she would drown in it and it would feel like no force on earth would be able to make her stop feeding.   
This was not that.   
The look of shock on Damon's face when her bite released and she discarded his still-bleeding wrist was priceless. She blurred with motion as she turned to face him, straddling his lap and pinning him hard against the alley wall as her mouth seized his in a kiss that was near-violent in its urgency. If he minded the taste of his own blood on her, he didn't show it, his tongue begging entrance to her mouth in a thorough and resolute claiming of every square inch of her mouth, even running over the slits in her gums where her fangs had receded. His hands moved to the back of her head and the curve of her ass as he groaned into her mouth in a beautiful vibration that she felt coil in her now-healed belly. Her hips snapped to his, and when she found him already hard under her she ground against him, eliciting more of those delicious tactile sounds. She nipped at his lip with blunt human teeth as her hands started to roam his body greedily, desperate for more, more, impossibly _more_. She’d wanted to feel his body wrapped around her for so long, and it felt so right. She didn’t care that they were in an alley, that his hands were covered in her blood, that there was an unconscious would-be murderer ten feet away… It didn’t matter. All that mattered was him.

It was when she blindly started groping for his belt buckle that she felt him still beneath her and pull back.   
"Stop... Bon, stop."   
"What? Why?" Her voice was breathless as she spoke. She decided there and then that if he complained about the setting, she wasn’t waiting until they got back to the manor. At a push, she could hold out for the Camaro.   
"They call it 'bloodlust' for a reason." He gently but firmly pushed her back, and - dejectedly - she let him. "You don't want this."   
What she heard - loud and clear - was " _I_ don't want _you_ ". She felt tears pricking behind her eyes as the rejection washed over her like a tidal wave. She had felt his arousal beneath her, seen it in his eyes, breathed it in his scent... But that was just a physical reaction: One she'd been warned to expect from those she fed on. It didn't mean he wanted her. It didn't mean anything. Suddenly she couldn’t get her hands off of him fast enough. Pulling back, she didn’t meet his eyes. “Bonnie…”

She couldn’t bear to hear any more. She was hours from home, but the idea of being around Damon – around _anyone_ \- right now was unbearable. Tears coursed down her cheeks as vamp speed carried her off into the night.


	9. Chapter 9

The sun was rising by the time Bonnie walked back into the manor. In hindsight, it was nothing short of a miracle she hadn’t run across anyone – she dreaded to think what she would’ve done.   
“Bonnie?” Damon’s concerned voice wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but she knew she needed to face him sooner or later. “Are you okay? I drove around for hours looking for you. I set the goddamn library on fire trying a locator spell – where were you? Were you just walking around covered in blood, what if someone saw you?”   
“No-one saw me.” Her voice sounded raw. “I can’t do this right now.”   
He didn’t question her or try to follow her as she went upstairs.

A few hours later, Bonnie felt like she was laying on a bed of nails. She felt better in herself after a shower and some bagged blood (that tasted all the more acrid and gross now she knew the sweet honey flowing through Damon’s veins), but leaving things as they were with Damon wasn’t an option. She could hear him breathing down the hall, and from the cadence of his breaths, she knew he wasn’t asleep either despite their sleepless night. Just sitting here as her overactive mind went through every possible permutation of the conversation, trying and failing to shut out the grating and intolerable ambient noise of the surrounding forest, was unbearable. Resigning herself to the inevitable, she made her way down the hall, and knocked on Damon’s door. She opened the door to face her fate.

“Hey.” Damon’s voice was soft, like he was desperate not to spook her.   
“Hey.” She said weakly.   
"I guess we need to talk."   
"I guess we do." She agreed. There ensued several seconds of awkward silence. "One of us should probably say something."   
"Fine.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Last night was..." _Euphoric? Incredible?_ "Wrong. It was so, so fucked up. You weren't in control of yourself, and neither of us were thinking straight and… I'm sorry."   
Bonnie was tired. Tired of keeping everything bottled up and pretending everything was okay, tired of feeling like this. Just... Tired. She couldn't take it anymore.   
"I'm not."   
"What?"   
"I'm not sorry.” He was looking at her like she was speaking a different language. “The situation was awful, and I could've done without yet another life-threatening situation before I was old enough to buy beer. But…” She didn’t suppress the half-smile that spread across her lips. “I got to kiss you. And extenuating circumstances or not, you kissed me back.” She didn’t look at him – she couldn’t until she’d gotten this out. “If that was so repugnant to you that you can never look me in the eye again, fine. But I refuse to pollute the memory of a kiss I've wanted for months by feeling guilty about it." She squeezed her eyes shut, not ready to see his reaction. "And goddammit if you dare to tell me one more time what I do or don't want, I will drain you dry without a moment’s hesitation.”

In the deathly silence that followed, she could barely even hear him breathe. His heartbeat was hummingbird-fast and it drove her crazy that she didn’t know what that meant.   
“Why did you cast the spell?”   
“What does that have to do with-?”  
”Bonnie, please.”   
She sighed. At this point, what did she have to lose?   
“Because you stopped touching me and I couldn’t stand not knowing why.”   
She had never had anyone look at her the way Damon was looking at her now – she couldn’t describe the raw emotion splayed on his face… Awe maybe?   
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment you took my hand on the Other Side.” Bonnie’s head snapped up at that. “And I’ve known I was in love with you since you sent me back.”   
Bonnie was glad she didn’t strictly need to breathe, because she couldn’t. She had persuaded herself that he wasn’t even attracted to her; the L-word was never even on her radar, a word she’d never even let herself think. “I stopped touching you because it was killing me.”   
He had laid his heart bare for her, and was waiting to see if she would take it or crush it. She didn’t respond with words, instead crashing into him with vamp speed, knocking him backwards and forcing the breath from him with the strength of her passion.


	10. Chapter 10

This kiss was an echo of the one they had shared before, only this time instead of his blood in her mouth, she could taste pure, undiluted Damon – warm and succulent and rich. And she tasted him thoroughly, finally secure in the knowledge that this was _mutual_ , that it wasn’t just one-sided longing or bloodlust or whatever else. His passion was subdued at first – as if he was still questioning everything – but quickly stoked into something as deep and desperate as her own, his body pressing against hers so close a sliver of silk couldn’t have slid between them. The guttural moans he released into her mouth made the taste of him sweeter still. From her position on top of him, he wasn’t strong enough to take control, and she savoured the feeling of his frantic writhing beneath her as he sought friction.

Her vampire senses had been a curse since the moment she’d acquired them, but right now - with the savoury-sweet tang of Damon’s arousal filling her lungs, his hot, velvet-soft skin under her fingertips, the sound of his heart racing with excitement beneath his chest – Bonnie was very much starting to see the appeal. Every inch of her skin Damon touched was on fire, and when he unbuttoned her shirt and brushed it down over her shoulder (his lips following shortly, trailing in its path), she gasped with the unexpected intensity of the feeling. Her body moved with preternatural with speed as she discarded her shirt and ripped through Damon’s like it was made of paper, desperate for more. If he was disturbed by her supernatural speed and strength, or by the blister of black veins under her eyes, he didn’t show it. If anything it seemed to fuel his fervour, his hands uncovering ever more sensitive spots that made her back arch and her skin sing. It was too much, and she found herself grabbing his wrists and pinning them behind his head as she plundered his lips, her body rolling over his in desperation to feel more of him. He looked at her with unabashed need, her strength only fuelling his desire. Unable to use his hands, he lifted his hips to grind against her core, eliciting a moan so deep and needful she could hardly believe it came from her.

Bonnie felt herself pushed back upright by an unnatural force, and it took her a moment to realise Damon had used magic to take control – pride bloomed in the smile on her face as Damon’s mouth resumed its worship of her body. She hadn’t been able to withstand the discomfort of wearing a bra since her transformation, and when his hand moved to cup her breast as his tongue swirled around her nipple, her smile broke into a gasp as a shock of pleasure so intense it almost hurt took hold of her. Her fingers slid into his hair and tightened, and for a second she was worried she had forgotten her strength as he moaned around her, but evidently Damon’s sound had been borne of pleasure rather than pain, as he ground against her core. Deft fingers slipped up under her skirt, teasing at her through her already-soaked underwear, and her body convulsed violently at the force of the sensation. Damon’s other hand moved from her breast to a soothing caress at her side, his lips to a gentle kiss at her neck – one that said ‘ _Trust me, let me take care of you’_. Bonnie relaxed into his touch as his fingers eased beneath the lace in a barely-there touch that she felt everywhere. She was almost embarrassingly wet, and his fingers slid between her folds without a hint of resistance.

Bonnie shivered from head to toe as Damon worked a magic all his own on her; somehow since she’d been a vampire, even the softest fabrics had felt rough and harsh against her skin, but Damon knew exactly how to touch her without it ever feeling like too much. He coaxed her gently into accepting his touch, and she dug her nails in hard enough to make him wince when he slid the first finger inside her – it felt better than she could ever have imagined, and it was a monumental effort not to just throw him back and sink down onto him. By the time she was ready for a second, she was shaking. His fingers stroked with unerring precision over a spot inside her just as his thumb swept in a circle over her clit, and her back arched hard as her orgasm wracked through her. She came harder than she thought was possible, squeezing him hard with muscles she didn’t even know she had.

Damon’s desire was a thick cloud of scent around her that gave her a single-minded focus, and when she felt the aching emptiness of him drawing his fingers from her only to open her eyes to the sight of him sucking the taste of her from them, she was gone. Bonnie was a blur of motion and torn fabric as she discarded every scrap that lay between them, throwing Damon back with no small amount of force and sitting astride him. He barely had time to discern what had happened before she sank down onto his length, tearing a gasp of shock from him that quickly morphed into a groan of pleasure. Bonnie swore, her fingers ripping into the sheets at his side – he felt divine, filling every inch of her so deeply she couldn’t breathe, tears of pure ecstasy brimming at the corner of her eyes. Even without her enhanced senses, she knew no-one else would fill her so perfectly – could ever make her feel this whole. His left hand slid down to take her right, fingers tangling with hers to ground her. Meeting his gaze – seeing the reverence and love and desire they held – her body moves of its own volition, her hips rising and falling to the cadence of Damon’s heart.

Damon matched her thrust for thrust, his hands moving between bracketing her hips, sweeping his thumbs over her thighs, and canting her ass forwards to take him deeper. The friction between them sparked like electricity dancing across her skin – burning blissfully everywhere he touched her, and aching everywhere he didn’t. Bonnie ground down on him, taking her pleasure as she fed him his own. He propped himself up on an elbow to gain more leverage, pulling her down to meet him in a fierce kiss so deep that it made her veins darken and her fangs descend. She felt Damon smirk against her lips, but before she could question it, she felt his tongue slide against her fang, and her whole world narrowed to the head of a pin as the taste of his blood flooded her mouth, lighting up her senses like Christmas. Bonnie moaned into his mouth as she sucked on his tongue, barely conscious of the fingers sliding between them and pressing hard on her clit until her body broke around him. She felt the pulse of Damon’s cock as his own orgasm hit him, flooding in to her in a rush of warmth.

  
\---

It took Bonnie a moment to realise that the sudden, quiet numbness wasn’t just a result of post-coital bliss. Her senses didn’t rush back to her, but there was one thing that signalled to her that things weren’t as they seemed.   
“Ew.”   
Her mouth - which had previously been bursting with the blissful, hot sweetness of Damon’s blood – was now filled with a sharp, vile metallic tang. It _did_ taste like blood – like her human memory of what blood tasted like.   
Her eyes darted to where Damon lay beneath her, to see him gazing up at her with unmitigated adoration.   
“You’re beautiful.” His thumb passed over her cheek with a gentleness she knew too well: One borne of oversensitised skin.   
“Are you-?”   
“Back to being a living-dead person? Yep.” He popped the ‘p’, his fingers trailing up her side. “And from how unfairly delicious you smell right now, I’m gonna take a leap and say you’re back to being a witch.”   
“So we broke the spell? We didn’t even need magic?”   
”Personally, I’d say there was _plenty_ of magic…” Damon raised an eyebrow suggestively.   
Bonnie rolled her eyes.   
“You’re unbelieveab- _ahh_!” Bonnie gasped in surprise, staring at him in disbelief as, still inside her, she felt him start to harden again. “Seriously?”   
“Vampire stamina – one of the perks I’ve been _dying_ to teach you about.” She squealed as he flipped them over in a flash of vamp-speed, a glint of mischief in his eye. “Unless you’d rather go back to flipping through textbooks?”   
Bonnie pulled him down into another one of those searing kisses that (she was glad to find) still made her dizzy even when she was human.   
“There’s no place I’d rather be.”


	11. Chapter 11

_Six weeks later…_

Bonnie had always hated getting sick, but getting sick with a vampire boyfriend was infinitely worse.   
“Do you need more blankets? A glass of water?” Damon’s cool hand rested against her forehead for a moment before moving down to hold hers. “You don’t have a fever, but you look pale. Are you getting enough iron? B12?” He was attentive, sweet, and protective, but she was painfully aware of his enhanced senses, and had never felt more gross. “I can give you some of my blood.”   
A fresh wave of nausea hit.   
“Oh God, please don’t talk about blood right now.”   
He winced.   
“Sorry. I’m just worried.”  
”It’s fine. _I’m_ fine. It’s just human stuff.” She sighed. “Ugh, I hate that you have to see me like this. So not sexy.”   
“Good job you’re sexy enough the rest of the time to make up for-“

He stopped mid-sentence, something unreadable crossing his expression. He pulled his hand away as if burned, and when he looked at her again, it was like he was looking at a stranger.   
“Damon, is everything okay?”   
He laughed, but there was no hint of humour in it. It was a dark, disbelieving sound. When he spoke again, his voice was full of cold fury. She had never heard him like this – at least, never towards her.   
“I knew it. I knew it was too good to be true.”   
“Is everything okay in here?” Caroline had obviously heard the change in Damon’s voice, and come to check on her.   
“You’d think after Katherine I wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for it again.” Damon continued.   
“What? What are you talking ab-“   
“Don’t.” He cut her off. “Don’t you dare try and play innocent.”   
“Damon, please. What’s gotten into you?”   
Another dark laugh.   
“That’s my line.” Bonnie looked at him in confusion. “You’re not sick – you’re _pregnant._ ” He spat.

Bonnie was too busy counting the days since her last period to hear anything he might have said after the word ‘ _pregnant’_. It wasn’t something she’d been keeping track of – why would she? Her boyfriend was _dead_.   
“Th-that’s not possible.” She stuttered out. “It’s only been you – it’s been years since anyone else.”   
“You’re really going to try and deny it? I can _hear its heartbeat_ , Bonnie.”   
It was crazy, and impossible, but the way Caroline was looking at her stomach like she was the virgin Mary confirmed it.   
“Damon please – I could never…” Her eyes welled up with tears. “I love you.”   
“Um, guys?” Caroline’s gaze didn’t move from her stomach.  
”Back off, Blondie – this has less than nothing to do with you.”   
She ignored his warning.   
“When was the first time you guys… y’know…”   
“What does that have to do with anything?” Bonnie said. “It’s been _years_ since-“  
”Just humour me, please.”   
“When she abra-cadabra’d herself into a vampire.” Damon’s voice was full of hurt.   
“And when she turned _you_ into a human?” Caroline prompted.   
Bonnie’s heart felt like it stopped in her chest.   
“No, no that’s not possible.” Damon shook his head. “Even when I wasn’t dead, _she_ was.”   
“Did they not have sex ed in the 1800’s?” Caroline sniped. “Sperm can live inside the body for _days_ afterwards.” She looked over at Damon, whose emotions were warring in his expression as he processed the impossible. “Well it doesn’t look like he’s about to go murder-happy anytime soon, so I’m gonna give you guys some space.” Caroline turned to leave, but paused. “Oh, and Bonnie? My mom swore by fennel tea – y’know, for the morning sickness. Congratulations, sweetie.”

Even after Caroline’s footsteps had stopped echoing in the hall, the silence was deafening.   
“Damon?” Bonnie said gently. When he still didn’t move, didn’t look at her, she got up and approached him slowly. He blinked like he’d been lost in his thoughts, eyes moving to fix on her.   
“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” A small smile crept onto her face - Damon looked like someone had just told him leprechauns existed, and his first concern was still for her.   
“Can we start with a less complicated question?” Bonnie laughed nervously. “What about you? Are you… How do you feel about it?”   
He looked terrified, confused, dumbstruck… but there was something else there, too. Something Bonnie didn’t expect:   
Joy.   
“I’m gonna be a dad? We’re having a kid?”   
He was asking her – she knew she could say she didn’t want a baby, or wasn’t ready, and Damon wouldn’t question her decision even if it was his only chance. Even before she fell in love with someone who was pretty definitively infertile, Bonnie hadn’t envisioned this for herself for many years, but she had always wanted a family. She was struck with a vision of a child – _their_ child: With mocha skin, Bonnie’s curls, Damon’s eyes…   
She took his hands in hers.   
“We are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I wrote this, and it was an ending even I didn't see coming - VERY out of my comfort zone. Hope you liked it, and I'll try to get the final WIP finished over the next couple of weeks!


End file.
